Star Trek: Odyssey
by amilhorn
Summary: The year is 2410. With the discovery of the Solanae Dyson Sphere, Undine infilitration, Borg resurgence and threats from Klingon and Romulan factions, a new captain and crew are assigned to the U.S.S. Beagle, a retrofitted Galaxy-class cruiser to use the Sphere to go to the Delta Quadrant and study the data brought back by Voyager but it will not go as planned...


**Earth Spacedock**

**Sol System**

**Stardate: 92288.77 (Standard Earth year 2410).**

The construction itself was enormous, three miles high from top to bottom, made of dull gray metal and composites, its many thousands of transparent aluminum windows glinting in the sunlight as it crossed into the sun's warm touch. It hovered, locked in synchronous orbit with the planet below it, a giant three leveled mushroom like structure buzzing with activity as starships of every design and make entered, left, docked, refueled and more. Around the spacedock, various dry docks hovered in orbit, servicing different ships, refitting and repairing with the movable rib arms of the drydocks resembling rectangular metal octopi.

Below the gigantic spacedock Earth, the crown jewel and heart of the United Federation of Planets, shimmered with its crystal blue oceans, gleaming cities and white swirling clouds. The planet was not the largest in the Sol system but it was certainly the most important. Shuttles moved back and forth from the planet to the spacedock constantly, the indication of a vibrant and living space faring civilization. The United Federation of Planets spanned 8,000 light-years with over one hundred and fifty member worlds, all built and united under the principals of peace, exploration and discovery. However, in recent years, the Federation had been in turmoil.

The Hobus supernova had wiped out the planets of Romulus and Remus, leaving one of the major powers of the Alpha Quadrant devastated, the Romulan Star Empire. The supernova had came at the worst possible time, during reunification attempts by Ambassador Spock and Ambassador Picard to reunite the Vulcans with their cousins the Romulans, to put an end to centuries of tension and war. Sadly, the disaster had torn the already frayed Romulan Empire to pieces, leaving its survivors ragged in two factions; one that favored working with the Federation in favor of peace and the other, loyal to the former Empress Sela, dedicated to the old ideals of the Tal Shiar and its dictatorial rule of the elite and the military.

Further complicating galactic politics, the Undine, an aggressive shape-shifting species from a dimension of space called fluidic space, had began leading more and more bold incursions into Klingon, Federation and what little was left of Romulan space, infiltrating all levels of government, causing suspicion and paranoia. The Borg thankfully had been rather quiet after their defeat at the hands of Admiral Janeway, then captain, of the _U.S.S. Voyager_, while she and her crew were stranded in the Delta Quadrant but they too had led more recent incursions back into the Alpha Quadrant, violently taking over and completely assimilating an entire Federation colony on Vega. The Klingon Empire was now under the leadership of the war monger J'mpok who had withdrawn the Empire from the Khitomer Accords, tossing more sectors of the Alpha Quadrant into chaos. The Federation tried to keep peaceful relations with the two other powers but frequently found itself at odds as they fought to expand their empires, breaking long standing treaties and wasting millions of lives.

The only thing that had slowed down the rising specter of all out war was the discovery of the Solanae Dyson Sphere on the very edge of the Delta Quadrant.

The Solanae Dyson Sphere was a dyson sphere with a radius spanning one astronomical unit around a brown dwarf star. It lay close to the border of the Beta Quadrant, deep into what was formerly Romulan space. An alliance had formed of likeminded Klingons, Romulans and Federation scientists and militaries to study and understand the sphere since within it, lay an Iconian Gateway, a remnant of the long lost and long dead empire with technology that surpassed anything the current galactic powers had currently. The gateway had the power to send ships more than half way across the galaxy in the blink of an eye, launching them deep into the Delta Quadrant, a journey that would normally take 70 years at maximum warp.

The Alliance had made progress in the year since its discovery in 2409 and had learned that the Solanae, an Iconian servitor race, had built the sphere more 200,000 years ago. It was commissioned as an Iconian staging base when the Iconians were forced to abandon their homeworld after a violent orbital bombardment. The sphere was capable of housing large armadas, a vast population and traveling vast distances across the galaxy through subspace, an ability fueled by omega particles, generated by the sphere itself.

When the Solanae activated the sphere, a large scale accident occurred, which released unbelievable amounts of tetryonic energy and reduced the output of the sphere's central star. This accident changed the molecular structure of the surviving Solanae, forcing them to retreat into subspace to survive. The accident forced the Iconians to abandon the Sphere due to its flaws and left large amounts of residual tetryon particles which are still detectable in the present day.

The Alliance was formed after the discovery of the Sphere by the Federation ship U.S.S. alliance between the three powers of the Alpha Quadrant formed to study the sphere because of the emission of strange particles which later were confirmed to be omega particles from within the sphere itself. Omega particles were highly unstable molecules and were the most powerful known substance to exist. If the molecules destabilized, they destroyed subspace itself and made warp travel impossible. Naturally, for every major power that relied on the warp drive for faster than light travel and an interstellar culture, the omega particles posed a distinct hazard and it was decided to be in the best interest to learn as much as possible about the containment of the deadly particles being produced deep inside the sphere.

Now, for the first time, a ship was being built especially for and dedicated to exploring the history and purpose of the Solanae and their sphere, as well as to explore the now reachable vast distances of the Delta Quadrant, a job that Admiral Janeway and her crew had started almost thirty years ago when they were flung into the Delta Quadrant by the alien known as the Caretaker. Her ship, the _Voyager_, had struggled for seven years to cross the 70,000 light year distance between where they were thrown and Earth to get home, a journey that would have taken seventy years if it had not been for sheer luck, help and a deadly encounter with the Borg at the heart of one their rare transwarp hubs.

Now, Admiral Janeway, a human woman of a healthy seventy-three years, stood behind the window of her office on the top level of Earth Spacedock, looking down onto Earth itself, the transparent metal reflecting the floating blue-green orb. Her Admiral's uniform was crisp and in place, the deep maroon waist coat reaching her knees with loose fitting black trousers and perfectly shined black shoes beneath it. The black shoulders of the uniform were accented with gold piping and above her left breast was the Starfleet insigna, a slightly asymmetrical arrow-head shaped pennant with a rising star in the center, made of gold. It both functioned as a reminder of the office she held and a communicator. On her right neck of her uniform was the four pipped enclosed rank of Admiral. Her undershirt was a light gray and it accented her soft cream skin, which was now beginning to show the first signs of age and hard times. Her blue eyes, as sharp and piercing as ever were bright under her shoulder length auburn hair which itself had just recently started to show the first streaks of gray. She was tough, had to be, and beneath that toughness there was a certain softness. However anyone who had made the mistake of taking her gentle soft-spoken nature had often found themselves wishing they hadn't.

She was a formidable force to be reckoned with, one the believed in the heart of Federation ideals of diplomacy, exploration and peace but one who was not afraid to point out its short comings even those who were above her.

Reflecting now, she remembered her seven years in the Delta Quadrant as she turned from the window, sipped her coffee from the steaming mug in her hand and sat down at her desk, setting the coffee aside, the mug clinking on the glass table top.

With one hand, she tapped out the command lines into her computer and a holographic display formed, floating a few centimeters above the darkened glass of the desktop, rendered in full color.

The hologram was a perfect replica of an _Intrepid_-class starship, the same type as the _Voyager_. She knew its dimensions as if they were her own children. Designed for long-term scientific exploration missions, the ship was considered fast and smart. It was the first vessel to incorporate bio-neural gel packs replacing key points of isolinear circuits for faster computer response time and was the first ship in Starfleet, the exploratory and scientific diplomatic division of the Federation, to use the now standard Emergency Medical Hologram. 344 meters long…144 meters wide …15 decks…700,000 metric tons…a crew complement of 141, the Intrepid-class was loaded with state of the art sensor arrays, deflector shields, and at the time, the highest top speed of any vessel in Starfleet. She possessed a main computer processor capable of simultaneously accessing 47 million data channels and sustaining 575 trillion calculations per nanosecond in operational temperatures from 10 to 1790 Kelvin.

The Intrepid-class was built along the established Federation ship designs, a saucer section, an engineering section and a dual warp nacelle design, however, it pushed the boundaries at the time of its creation with no neck between the saucer and engineering hulls, an elongated ovoid saucer section, and twin variable geometry warp nacelles on movable pylons and capable of a cruising speed of warp 9.975, about 2,922 times the speed of light. Few vessels even more than thirty years later had managed to beat that speed. Her smooth gray lines and blue glowing nacelle grids made Janeway long for the days in the captain's chair instead of being stuck behind a desk.

She tapped the hologram's touch interface, and the screen switched to a blue-print, with clean lines and labels. The dorsal saucer section was covered by four phaser arrays, two of which extended from the aft curvature along the length of the saucer. The aft firing arc was covered by two smaller arrays, angled on the rear of the saucer section. The relative bottom of the ship was protected by two similar arrays as on the dorsal saucer section, extending to the rear of the saucer and following the curve towards the bow as well as photon torpedo launchers, two fore and two aft (as well as one on the ventral side of the saucer section), capable of launching photon torpedos as well as tri-cobalt torpedos.

The_ Intrepid-_class was not a ship to pick a fight with. As well as being smart and fast, she packed a helluva bite, which, Janeway remembered solemnly, she had been forced to use more than she cared for. _In her memory, explosions rocked the bridge, orange-red phaser beams ripped out into the darkness of space, her crew injured and bleeding..._

A soft gentle chime broke the silence in the office.

Janeway sighed and looked up. She really did miss the old days. For every time they were dark there were so many light moments, especially with Neelix, the Voyager's self appointed "morale officer" who, while irritating at times, always provided a constant fresh perspective on humanity and was often invaluable as a guide. She wondered how the fuzzy headed alien was doing these days.

"Come in," she said, and sat up, straightening her tunic.

The gray doors to her office slid open with a soft hiss, and a man entered briskly and stood at attention as the doors closed behind him. He looked around the office with his cool green eyes that were the color of glowing green glass taking in his surroundings; the soft gray carpet, the gray walls lined with shelves which themselves were lined with softly glowing holopictures…Pictures of Janeway's former crew, many of whom had commands of their own now; Captain Harry Kim, the former communications officer of the Voyager. Lieutenant Commander now Commander Tom Paris, his wife, the former engineer of Voyager, the half Klingon-half human B'Lana Torres and their now grown daughter, Miral, chief of security on the U.S.S. Kirk. So many faces, so much time. A golden model of the U.S.S. Voyager held a prominent place among the photos as well as a picture of an Irish setter dog with long flowing brown fur and a man who Janeway never talked about. There was even a picture of The Doctor, the Mark 1 Emergency Medical Hologram who had recently been granted sentience, proudly holding his literary award for his groundbreaking holonovel, _Photons Be Free._

And there, on her desk, was a photograph of the entire Voyager senior crew, including the infamous Doctor and Janeway herself.

The man moved forward and stood in the center of the blue and white United Federation of Planets flag on the carpet, a circular symbol with the planet Earth surrounded by twin peace laurels. He waited dutifully while Janeway took him in.

Her first observation was that he was taller than she expected. She had only seen him in photos and class reports. He had straight black hair that was loose but cut neatly, framing his face. His beard was black as well, and like his hair, was kept neatly trimmed and close, framing his jawline and just reaching up to his cheeks which, under their rose cream colored human skin were tinged with a green that was barely noticeable. He had wide shoulders, and his stance was perfect Starfleet, crisp, on point, without a flaw.

The uniform he wore was the new standard, a black tunic, black trousers and shoes, the shoulders of his uniform were white, spotless and a ring of a horizontal red stripe ran under the white and around his entire torso…the red of command and white of a ship's captain. His four rank pips sat on the right side of his neck of his uniform and like Janeway, he too wore the Starfleet combadge insignia over his left breast.

He looked like a Caucasian human male except, his ears and that slight green tinge to his skin that was barely visible. His ears were swept up to points. At two meters tall, he was an imposing figure and he bore the rank of captain well, though it was newly upon him.

Janeway had read his dossier. Former first officer of the _USS Potomac_, now captain Serran Jakobs.

She knew his record at Starfleet academy was brilliant and above reproach. He was practically an engineering genius and was fascinated by any machine or system. He had a knack for understanding them. He, like her former engineer B'lana, was half human and half alien, this time a Vulcan. Vulans were known, she thought with an inner smile for their stoic and logical approach to life with everything and every action only acted upon with logic, science and reason. Most Vulcans also suppressed nearly all of their emotions through a ritual she knew as kholinahr that purged them of their emotions. This young man, had grown up on Earth with his human mother after his father had been killed in a Romulan attack many years ago.

Serran's mother had been an anthropologist and his father a xenoarchaeologist. Having grown up on Earth, he had very little experience with Vulcan culture, though his mother tried to encourage him to learn about his family, despite the fact that his Vulcan side of the family, though they were hiding it very well, did not approve of his retention of emotion, with his rejection of the kholinahr.

"Hello, Serran." She said, gesturing to the rounded cushioned seat in front of her desk. He did, moving quickly and sat with the precision Starfleet officers were known for. She smiled.

"At ease, captain. I asked you to her to see you before the launch, not for a court martial."

Serran visibly relaxed, his shoulders lowering and he actually breathed a sigh of relief.

"You seem nervous, captain. Something wrong?" she asked, sipping her coffee. "Would you like something to drink?" she asked, nodding towards the replicator panel console on the far wall.

He shook his head and finally met her eyes.

"No thank you captain but I appreciate the offer. I'm not nervous exactly... It's just that, when I was at the Academy, to be honest, you were one of my inspirations. I've always wanted to meet you but wasn't able to."

For a moment it took Janeway aback. She wasn't used to hearing a Vulcan speak so…emotionally….nor was it common to hear a Vulcan use contractions. Her closest friend, Tuvok, was a dark skinned Vulcan, and was her security chief for all of the years they were lost in the Delta Quadrant. He was always her right hand, her source of reason and logic. Without him, she thought she wouldn't have made it through the journey. Tuvok was always logical, never smiled and never revealed his emotions though she knew he had them. Tuvok had under gone kholinahr years before joining Starfleet.

Now, with this young man before her, she was reminded that time does not slow nor does it forgive. In many ways, he was the opposite of Tuvok. In some, he reminded her poignantly of him.

"Well, captain, I can tell you from experience that hero worship will ultimately always end for you in disappointment. Heroes are never as great as we think they are nor are they worthy our adoration, but I thank you for the compliment. It means a great deal to me, to have young minds who are as eager to study science and the unknown in this crazy time we find ourselves in. I know your first year was a living hell after you graduated and the loss of captain Taggert."

"Yes, mam. It was. Thankfully my crew and I were able to survive it." Serran replied, a dark shadow passing over his eyes momentarily.

"A crew is your backbone out there. For the record, by the way, no one calls me mam. The first day I boarded _Voyager _out at DS9, I told my crew that captain was more than fine with mam being a rarely called for word and Admiral will do now. No need for such formalities as mam. It makes me feel old." She grinned, setting her mug aside again. She picked up a PADD, a hand held computer pad with a large flat display screen and read from it. On the screen was his personnel file and Starfleet record.

"So, here you are. Barely thirty years old, being put in charge of the most daring mission Starfleet has ever had since the original Enterprise NX-01 launched in 2151. I wanted to see you before you took command. I'll be the one to transfer it to you. Sadly, I wish we had more of a ceremony but with times being what they are, we are strapped pretty tightly."

"I'd rather avoid ceremony to be honest, Admiral. I was never a fan of it." Serran said, visibly relieved.

"I agree. Are you ready for this, captain? It's a seven year voyage. Its not going to be a walk in the park or a pleasure cruise. The Delta Quadrant is wild space. Between the Borg, the Kazon, hell, even the Hirogen, you are going to have your hands full. You have an outstanding record, both proven in combat and are highly spoken of in most circles, barring the Vulcan Science Academy."

Serran sat forward. "I hope I can live up to the precedent you and your crew set. I believe my crew can do it. I have faith in them. As for the Science Academy on Vulcan...I like to think I keep them on their toes and remind them that you can't always solve everything with logic and pragmatism."

Janeway nodded. She thought she was going to like this kid. "Ours was a forced voyage. You are going into the hornets' nest willingly. I would have never put my crew through what we went through if I had a choice and looking back, I wonder if I could have done anything to get them home sooner, even violating the Prime Directive. I almost stopped believing in myself at times. The choices are never going to be easy. But, I believe you. I can see it about you…you are what Command thinks you are: reliable, more than capable, brave to a fault. I suspect you will do us and the Federation proud."

"Yes, ma-I mean, Admiral."

Janeway smiled again. He was young. He would soon learn those formalities and all the precision of Starfleet in the world wouldn't cut it and sometimes it was just old fashioned elbow grease and sheer dumb luck and force of will. _In some ways he's just like Harry on his first day_, she thought.

She glanced down at her monitor on her desk and saw the time.

"Well, it looks like your launch is in twenty minutes. We'd better get you to the bridge. I just wish we could have gotten you an _Odysessy_-class but I think with your appreciation of engineering, you'll love what we did with what we have."

They both stood and walked towards the door.

"Nothing can ever beat the first ship you have." Serran said, his voice dropping somewhat despite his sly grin, the memories of the last year burning fresh in his mind.

Janeway nodded, putting her hand on his back. "_The Potomac_. She was a fine ship. I agree. I'm sorry she's gone." As they walked a thought occured to her, hitting her in an emotional place she rarely let anyone see.

"You fall in love with them. I know. No ship will ever beat your first but I think we've definitely set you up for one helluva second run." she finished.

The twin doors of her office hissed open and shut behind them, leaving the office in silence, haunted by unspoken memories of both Admiral and new captain, the voices of the dead echoing in muted voices and of sacrifices made on both sides.

Down below, the Earth turned on its orbit, eternal and full of life, the planets glow still radiant, forever, reaching into the stars.

The turbo lift up from the Administration level to the top tier of the spacedock was a fast one. The conversation between them was surprisingly casual. Serran had to remind himself to relax. She was his hero, to put it plainly and here he was taking orders directly from her.

"I wanted to get you an Odyssey-class cruiser for this mission. But right now all of ours are on the front, including the _Enterprise_. The next Odyssey space frame won't be ready for another year. We've lost so many good captains and crews with the Borg attacks and the skirmishes with the Romulan remnant and the Klingons it's hard to believe sometimes we are still standing." She said as the turbolift slid silently up its track, passing floor after floor, the computer dinging off the levels as they slid by.

"I'm sure whatever ship you were able to get will be fine. They didn't tell me what class she would be, though." Serran replied looking over at her, eyebrows raised. "Despite the fact that my crew has already been transferred from the _Angel_."

Janeway smiled, mischieviously.

"That," she said, "was my doing. Your file indicates that you have a fondness for old ships and tinkering. I also knew that you frequently read and checked out every book or paper you could get your hands on from Voyager's return. I liked your persistence. Like myself you have an appreciation for good engineering and science and I took it on myself to personally oversee this project and the ship selection."

Serran turned to face her. "You know that? How?"

"I like to keep up with cadets and applicants that show an aptitude for going against the grain. Tell me about your crew."

Serran thought her request made sense.

A captain who knew nothing of his crew was doomed to failure. She had made it a point, she noted in her reports after returning home on _Voyager_, that she got to know each member of her crew personally. As a result, _Voyager_ ran smoother than many ships ever did back home. He knew the reports because he had avidly read them over and over, the ones which weren't classified at any rate.

"My first officer, Commander Eliza Flores. Born on Mars Colony. Age—"

Janeway smiled and shook her head dismissively.

"Not what I mean, captain. I know their ages, their birth worlds…tell me about _them_. Personally."

Serren frowned, his up swept eyebrows furrowing.

"Well, we were all part of the same graduating class more or less. Commander Flores she's a tactical genius and has a definite knack for fire arms and tactics. I have a scar from the phaser range to prove it. She's one for practical jokes and enjoys a challenge." He said.

"Go on." Janeway prompted him.

" There's lieutenant commander Zarva. She is amazing with warp engines and anything computer or mechanical is her domain. She would always get Professor R'Ticell aggravated because she would constantly challenge him on warp theory and transwarp subspace applications. She's my chief engineer."

"Good to know you have someone out there taking care of those engines , especially someone who can think outside of the box. You'll need that with the adaptions." Janeway replied.

"My chief of security, Kolez. He graduated a year ahead of us and was on Vega colony helping them set up defenses when the Borg struck. He joined my crew afterward. He's got a fascination for criminology and seemed like a perfect fit for chief security officer. Damn fine at his job if I have to say so."

"Lieutenant Roaryn Nerys is my second in command in engineering. Zarva is training him on the finer points of her theories and he keeps her on her game. He can be a hot head however and I've constantly had to remind him of that but its that same quality that drives him to over achieve every time. It's a delicate balance."

"It always will be. Did you say Nerys? As in Bajoran?" she asked, recognition in her voice. Serran nodded.

"Yes. He's Kera Nerys's cousin, the Bajoran administrator of DS9."

Janeway smiled. "I met Kera just before we left on Voyager."

"My science officer, T'Vrell. She's a Vulcan. Full blooded. She won't admit it easily but she loves the thrill of discovery and she's got an annoying habit of trying to get me to try plomeek soup which I hate but I wouldn't trade her for anything."

"And your medical officer?"

"Ah. Now there is a character. Commander Joshua Laury, a transfer from Starfleet Medical before he finished the academy. The man can work wonders with a laser scalpel and is a walking library. He's a bit socially awkward, a bit like The Doctor but he's brave and never willing to settle for anything but best of the best when it comes to medical care. His nurses respect him. He loves Sherlock Holmes so much that he modified our last ship's EMH to look like The Doctor and named it Watson so he could spend time debating with it and along with Kolez they make a formidable crime team…if crime on the holodeck counts."

Janeway laughed. "You're telling me that your Chief Medical Officer modified the Mark VI emergency medical hologram to look like The Doctor? As in the EMH Mark 1 and called it Watson?"

"Yes," Serran chuckled. "We call Laury _Sherlock_ or sometime _Phlox._ Depends on which mood he's in. Its definitely affectionate because hes damn good."

"This should be an interesting crew meeting then. The Doctor himself wanted to verify personally your sickbay databases with the information transferred from Voyager years ago so that you have all the data we have on the Delta Quadrant."

"Oh?"

"Yes, hes quite…thorough...and we transfered your EMH...so Watson is still going to be with your crew. I imagine the new Soong Foundation mobile emitters will make this a very interesting journey." Janeway commented.

The turbolift slowed to a gentle stop and the doors slid open.

"Here we are. The last stop before the unknown, captain." She said as she stepped off. Serran followed her and he never could quite get over the sight before him. The enormous space that was Earth spacedock unfolded before him.

The gray and soft blues of the carpets and walls, banks of holographic and LCARS consoles beeping, the hundreds of species of beings walking all about their business, cadets rushing PADDS back to their commanding officers. Starfleet uniforms made up a large majority….red command…yellow engineering and security and blue for science and medical. The new uniforms hadn't yet had time to go standard so there was quite a bit of variety in the styles presented. Voices and conversations filled the air with the sound of hundreds of voices.

The tailor, the equipment exchange and requisition office and the supply depot curved along with the walls, their transparent glass fronts identified by the gleaming white letters. A fountain bubbled briskly with well trimmed and cut trees and bushes lining certain areas. A three tiered stairwell led down to the starship docking area where captains and admirals selected their ships, took their assignments, set orders for ship repair and applied for crew exchanges.

A set of windows that stretched the height of the entire room lined the farthest curving wall and beyond them was a ship. He recognized it. A Vesta-class cruiser. First introduced in 2380 and serving proudly since, the large cruiser had more than proven its worth in combat and diplomacy. It was 672 meters long by 195 wide and 88 tall at 3,321,630 metric tons. A multi-mission explorer, she still fit the standard Federation design, with a sharper shovel shaped saucer section, a squat neck and sloped engineering section, her nacelles swept gracefully back.

"You ever flown one of those?" he asked Janeway as they made their way towards the shuttle bay.

"Never had the pleasure but I hear first year cadets really love them."

They quickly made their way through the crowds to the shuttle bay, with lower ranking cadets and officers snapping to attention as Janeway passed. She nodded back at them, her pace brisk. Their destination was a type 11 shuttlecraft, its twin nacelles held in place by thick stout pylons. Its profile was low and sleek with a single large wrap around cockpit canopy. Serran recognized the registry number.

"NCC-74656? That's a shuttle from _Voyager_, isn't it?" He asked.

"Glad you are paying attention, captain. Yes, I asked Admiral Tuvok to leave one here for me. He graciously obliged before heading back out to the Sphere."

As they approached the shuttle, the rear ramp lowered with a hiss and Janeway stepped briskly up before it had even touched the deck of the dock. Serran followed her into the small cockpit. The multicolored LCARS touch panels on the walls and the wrap around control boards glowed softly. Janeway seated herself into the cockpit chair and Serran took the co-pilot's.

"You know, this is something I rarely get to do anymore. I miss it more than I can ever let on. There are times," she said, keying in the startup sequence, the controls under the dark glass beeping softly, "That I wish I had declined the promotion. Are you ready to see your ship, captain?"

"I think I am." Serran said as the shuttle craft lifted smoothly off the deck, the rear door sealing behind them. He felt the inertial dampening fields kick in and the shuttlecraft turned, the walls of the dock outside spinning until they faced the outer airlock and the shimmering blue force field that kept the atmosphere inside the dock contained and the cold vacuum of space out.

"Computer, connect to Orbital Control." Janeway stated.

A second later, Orbital Control responsed.

"Shuttle-craft, this is Orbital Control. Go ahead." A calm male voice crackled over the speakers.

"This is shuttlecraft U.S.S. Neelix requesting clearance for take off and docking at coordinates 45 by 60 by 32."

"Acknowledged. Authorization?" came the reply promptly.

"Authorization Kathryn Janeway, Omega-4."

"Accepted. Your flight path is cleared."

Janeway sighed. "Procedure. With all the Undine infiltration we've had to be extra careful." Serran nodded. It was a necessary evil.

The shuttle craft's thrusters engaged, pushing the small craft out through the field and finally out into the deep black vastness of space. The billions of stars burned steady light years away, while worker bee craft, other shuttles and even larger starships moved into and out of their moorings.

Shifting over to impulse drive, Janeway moved ahead at one third drive speed, casually and expertly handling the deft little ship. A gigantic bronze colored craft with a long swept back body and a variable warp generator ring slid by silently, temporarily blocking out Serran's view of the dry docks which was their destination. A Vulcan science vessel he noted but which one, he didn't know.

A moment later, the vessel was gone and for a brief moment, the dry docks were fully revealed through the front view port.

There it was.

She was the only large ship in dry dock. There were others yes but the focus of all the activity, all the worker bees, drone craft, and small shuttles was on her.

He knew her class instantly.

642 meters long. 463 meters wide…195 tall. 4,500,00 metric tons. Duranium and tritanium hull plating. 42 decks. Four computer cores. Her saucer section was a wide oval, with gentle lines and a sloping neck, connecting to an organic engineering hull that ended in twin nacelles, one on each side. Her hull was painted in a stunning beige-white instead of the usual off gray of Starfleet standard. Her nacelle grids were glowing a soft but brilliant blue and her bussard collectors on the front of the nacelles simmered soft orange.

She dwarfed near every single ship around her. He felt his heart pound in his chest. His pulse picked up.

A Galaxy-class cruiser.

For nearly twenty years her class had been the ship of the fleet, including the Enterprise-D before her destruction. Majestic, like an eagle waiting to fly.

"There she is."

Janeway took the shuttle high into a gentle arc, curving the flight path up and to the dorsal side of the saucer section. There, in black and white rimmed letters, Serran saw her name.

U.S.S. Beagle. NCC-93274.

Janeway saw the look of awe on his face and smiled. She remembered what that felt like.

"Let's get you two acquainted. She's been waiting."

"So have I…" Serran said under his breath, his eagerness barely concealed.

The shuttled swooped around to the rear of the saucer section, towards the large hanger bay doors towards the top of the saucer. Janeway eased the controls and looked over at Serran.

"I think you should do the honors."

Serran nodded and smiled a bit himself.

"This is shuttle U.S.S. Neelix, to U.S.S Beagle, requesting docking clearance to shuttle bay one." He said.

A moment later, the familiar gentle yet somehow still monotone female voice of the Beagle's computer came back.

"Clearance granted. Approach when ready."


End file.
